“Why not?” I said, “what I wrote is true”.

“Because in this economic climate, it’s not a popular position.”

“Yeah…but it’s my opinion…and I’m not alone”, I replied….

The Hamilton Spectator recently reported, on its front page, the amount of money spent on meals for city councilors.  It was also followed by an editorial expressing outrage. The article states that city has spent approximately $34,000 per year for meals for councilors for the past 3 years when meetings run long.  The article quotes Mayor Brattina as supportive of the practice, along with several of our city councilors.

As a taxpayer, I am too.

As taxpayers we are the employers of city councilors and staff; our taxes pay their salaries and fund their departments.  We’re so quick to play that card: “I pay your salary”.  Usually when we’re on some sanctimonious trip and feel we’re not getting the service we pay for.

The taxpayer is a hard taskmaster.

One of my colleagues is leaving for an internship in Africa.  On Friday we had a surprise goodbye celebration at lunch for her, with the organization providing sandwiches and cake.

They didn’t have to.  The organization I work for, that is.  Most of us would have gladly contributed $5 for our share, but each and every one of us was happy we didn’t have to.  That way, we got to put our money toward things she wanted to take to the orphanage she is planning to visit in Africa, small toys, underwear.  And then there are those of us that didn’t have the extra $5 and who didn’t have to deal with that particular embarrassment when it came time to pony up.

We didn’t stay long at lunch.  As I sat in the room, I listened to the conversations around me.  Some people, those who were gathered around the guest of honour, were talking about Africa and her plans for the trip.  Other people were gathered in groups of 2 or 3, standing or sitting, talking together.  I watched my colleagues in conversation. Their conversations ranged from kids to the agenda of last week’s meeting or the plans for the next one.  We all work in offices separated by walls and doors and have to make an effort to engage with each other to know each other and rare are the opportunities for group gatherings at work.

The organization I work for recognizes the importance of these informal gatherings.  It knows that old adage that you get more flies with honey.  We workers gather around the sweet tray to take away a tasty treat back to our desks and the work that awaits us there, happy for the chance to catch up and connect.  We are fueled to get through the rest of the Friday afternoon.

I spoke to a friend of mine, someone who works in HR what her thoughts on the matter were.  She told me she crunched the numbers for her company once just to see if paying people for their time over lunch and dinner was more cost effective.  The evidence clearly showed that it wasn’t.  And she pointed out, people have to take breaks, its labour law.

The money spent on working meals isn’t much but what it buys is immeasurable.   Staff remember the gesture.

Think about it.  An employer has to pay only for the time an employee worked, and most people work fixed hours.  The opportunity for perqs flowing through a person’s employer can often make the difference between this job or that.  Retail positions offer staff discounts – some more than others and those that don’t should be ashamed of themselves – you know who you are Fortinos.  Food service employers offers discounts for staff meals, maybe limited to particular menu items but at a discount nonetheless.

Good employers know that in order to bolster morale and build loyalty, the paycheck’s just not enough.  And if they don’t provide a “free lunch” from time to time, well, staff turnover rates will tell the tale.

Especially if you ask them to do more than the next guy.

We’re all human and to expect our city councilors to adhere to a higher standard than you or I is hypocritical.  I wouldn’t want to work for such a cheap employer and neither would you.  No wonder it’s hard to get good people in politics.

If city councilors aren’t getting their work done in time because they’re too dysfunctional that’s another matter and that’s your fault as citizens.

You elected them.

The topic has filled pages of the Hamilton Spectator and is trending as a Hot Topic on its website.  Over at Raise The Hammer, the West Harbour location is still hanging on as the site favourite, one long gone in consideration, but one that had the most to gain from Pan Am investment funding.  Everyone’s been talking about it and expressing their opinion, which is what democracy is all about.  I’ve talked enough about it here and here.  Can’t say I didn’t have my say, for what it’s worth.  Gotta love the world wide web.

Too bad this is about a football stadium and not some of the more urgent topics that need discussing in our community.

Like the fact that we lack adequate numbers of mental health professionals for those in our community that need them, notably young children. Families who require services often have a difficult time finding them and face a long wait when they do.  The failure to address the mental health challenges facing our children will result in a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode when the conditions are ripe.  I was in a meeting recently and I thought I heard the factoid that we have no child psychiatrist in Hamilton.  I find that unbelievable if true.  How can our kids be so severely underserved?

Or how about the fact that our poorest people don’t get adequate nutritional or special diet allowances to ensure they can access the fresh fruit and vegetables that the rest of us can?  I took part in a Put Food in the Budget challenge last year.  I blogged about it over the course of the week.  It really opened my eyes to the limitations that many people live under, limitations that I hadn’t even considered until I tried it myself.  The difference is that I knew it was over when the campaign was done, while others live that life, month-in, month-out.

So when the Provincial government stepped in a stepped up their contribution to the Ivor Wynne Stadium redo, I had to shake my head at the way in which we prioritize need in our community.

Clearly the need of the Hamilton Tiger Cats and its millionaire owner are more vital to the interests of this community than the state of is children’s mental health or what’s on the table in some of our poorest homes.  Otherwise the government would be finding the money necessary to help those who need it most, rather than those that just cry the loudest.

And boy those Cats can howl.

The Federal Building has been empty for years.  It’s owned by Darko Vranich, who owns so much empty property around Hamilton.  His plans for the Federal Building involve a 140-unit, 20 story condo building, but he must be saving his pennies one by one because it’s taking a long time for his plans to come to fruition.  The Hamilton Spectator reports that he has been charged with code violations for using the building as a storage facility now he wants to demolish it, rip it down, creating another empty lot on a block that is full of them.  Empty lots, that is.

I pass the Federal Reserve building whenever I go downtown along Main Street.  I was last in it when I turned 18 and I signed my immigration papers.  It was opened just a few years before I was born.  As far as buildings go, it’s not that old, although I, myself, am at least mid-way through life.  Surely there’s something that can be done with it that doesn’t involved reducing it to rubble.  Bic-buildings, disposable, throwaway.

I was in Toronto last summer in the Lesleviille area, just east of the Don Valley Parkway, on Queen Street East.  I was taking a week-long course and commuting back and forth everyday on Go.  Every day at lunch I took a walk in a different direction, taking in the Leslieville/South Riverdale community of Toronto.  I covered a lot of ground.

What I noticed was the gentrification that was clearly underway on the streets I walked along.  I could see behind the spit and polish, particularly on the side residential streets, to the decay that had been creeping in over the years.  Along Queen Street East, the number of little restaurants and boutiques is surprising for such a run down neighbourhood, but clearly the pendulum is on the upswing.  One of the most telling factors of that was the renovations of what looked like 1950s institutional buildings.

The buildings under renovation look just like the Federal Building.  They have the red brick institutional look favoured by institutional architects in the 1950s.  These buildings in Leslieville were being renovated into condos or business space.  The businesses that seem to be taking root, aside from the restaurants, are design firms, branding, marketing companies.  Funny how all these companies tend gather in one area.  I bet it has to do with affordable, and interesting, space and a thriving creative community.

Why this building continues to remain vacant and left to decay is the responsibility of both the federal and the municipal governments.  The federal government should take a more active role in ensuring that the decommissioning of federal buildings don’t leave a blight on the communities of which they were once the jewel.  The municipal government should be taxing vacant/boarded up buildings at 125% of occupied buildings in order to encourage development and keep out people who are looking to hoard land for future development at their own whim and fancy.

Shit or get off the pot; develop it or sell it for someone else to develop.  Hamilton can’t wait for you to make up your mind.

Finally, after two years of squabbling about where to build a new one city council has agreed to rebuild Ivor Wynne – although they won’t call it by that name anymore.  Naming rights are part of the deal; they bring with them big money.  Ivor Wynne Stadium will be no more, just like the Civic Stadium that was before it.

I have fond memories of Civic Stadium when I was a kid.  I remember sitting in the stands with my parents watching Victoria Day fireworks, buddled up against the chill spring evening in blankets brought from home.  The fireworks disappeared when I was a kid, moved to various outdoor locations of the city over the years.  Now the fireworks are held at Bayfront Park, with people coming from all over the Hamilton area to see the yearly display.

The only reason I’ve gone into Ivor Wynne Stadium over the years is to watch Tiger Cats football games.   My taste for games ended quite some time ago when the tenor of their advertising changed and took on a more aggressive tone.  It began with the meat campaign and it never got any better for me.  The decision-makers over at Ti-Cat headquarters haven’t been winning any brownie points with their negotiation tactics.  Note:  we are where we started.  How much money have we spent to get there?

I hope someone at the city’s keeping track and preparing the bill for accounts payable over at Ti-Cat administration.

This decision hasn’t been met with much support by many of the people that I’ve heard express their opinion.  There’s a Facebook group set up in protest and the talk is tough and demanding of an explanation from Creative Arts, the organization responsible for the Festival and for this decision.

For some of those with a long-standing connection to the Festival, and I feel as one of them, it comes as a shock.  But I can’t speak for everyone who loves the Festival.

My first thought, as always, turned to transit.  That’s the make or break it factor for me.  I consulted the HSR map.  The Ancaster Fair Grounds (AFG) aren’t even on the map, and Saturday service to Ancaster is severely limited.  Sheesh.  Does everyone in a position of power drive?  Do none of them take the bus?

Sometimes I just get tired of the car and find its dominance over everything annoying as I have to accommodate, yet again, someone else’s imperative to drive.  I see the City caving into concerns about parking just a little too easily.  If buses can be brought in to shuttle people to Ancaster Fair Grounds, then extra buses can be set up in all areas of the city to shuttle people back and forth to Gage Park- for free – if sponsorship is so generous.

The fact that the Festival has been so successful is due to a number of factors, not the least of which is the convenient location of the venue.  The walkability factor of this event is huge, it pulls from a radius that extends up the escarpment with access via stairs as well as the streets that surround Gage Park.  Moving to the Ancaster Fair Grounds reduces the walkability factor to zero, contrary to Hamilton city policy.

While some people in the neighbourhood complain about the noise and commotion, others are celebrating and making new friends.  Those who feel aggrieved feel the need to express it, few supporters take the time to make their pleasure known.  Again, with sponsorship money, solutions to these problems can be found: extra policing, security.

The Festival has deep-pocket headlining sponsor with a name that carries some weight.  And good for them for snagging the deal.  It is a sign of the times that corporate branding reigns supreme.  The decisions of what to do with such a windfall must be wonderful for those who have struggled in the trenches for years to make this event a success.

But the fact remains that this decision results in a major loss to the east end of Hamilton.  The east end may look sad and depressing, as one commentator said, but I can’t see how pulling out a major festival, that has been in the community for decades will make it better.  I see the nature of the audience shift slightly, as those who lack access are weeded out and more space is made for those who drive.  And if that’s not a class issue, I don’t know what is.

But all is not lost.  With the disappearance of the Festival from the grassy lawn of Gage Park, space is open for another festival to take its place, one with local talent and handmade crafts.  Some on the group suggested an art festival.  Get back to the basics.  You can never have too many festivals in the summertime and there are no shortage of musicians looking for an audience to play for.  Small is what everyone who is unhappy about the move likes about the Gage Park venue, so let’s capitalize on that.

The TD Festival of Friends has grown from a grassroots, hometown event that we could walk down the street to, to an event that can draw thousands more to the Hamilton community.   We should be proud of our accomplishment and our gift to Ontario.

The TD Festival of Friends has the opportunity to grow even greater than it was, with greater access afforded to those who come from parts of Ontario rather than just parts of Hamilton.  It’s billed as Ontario’s largest free concert, not Hamilton’s.

Now, let’s get to work on building the next one.

The behaviour of the Tiger Cats adminstration in the interim has been appalling, surely a fine of example of the “it’s just business” maxim gone berserk, with people playing games like it’s reality Monopoly. Their behaviour displays a level of gamesmanship that may work in the corporate world where deep pockets fund fancy lawyers, but this is public money we’re spending just trying to find a solution for their demands, which have been solidly stuck in the concrete of a closed mindset. That they can hi-jack a civic-building, legacy project that the Pan Am stadium is supposed to be, and turn it into an acrimonious and city-splitting national debacle is a result of putting the horse before the cart; we end up with the tail wagging the dog.

The inability of city council to come together is indicative not if their ineptitude, as many allege. It is a symptom of our dysfunctional municipal identity.

With an opportunity to effect change and see some progress, maybe even movement, on some of our matters, in the shape of the municipal elections in last fall, what did the people of Hamilton do? We elected the same people, with only a few new faces around the councilor’s circular table. One of them being, significantly, the Mayor, but a player not without his own history on city council.  So how much “new” can be expected is the question facing many who hope for some positive change in the way in which Hamilton manages its relationships with the varied and multiple stakeholders who live, and work, in in the Greater Hamilton Area (GHA).

The debate over the stadium location affects more that just the Tiger Cats and their fans.   There is a velodrome that floats, precariously around the stadium discussions. A velodrome that has a sound business plan and a proven base of support in the Hamilton
community.

The velodrome is just a piece of a larger vision of Hamilton as a hub for cycling enthusiasts of all kinds and characters, from velodrome speedsters to circuit racers and Sunday afternoon country-side travelers.  The success of the World Championships in 2003 gave us just a taste of what we could do if we chose to pursue excellence in this area.  By leveraging these two great events, we have a chance to be in on the ground floor of the creation of a new way of life for a population who, quite frankly, could use the exercise.

Football doesn’t have quite the same motivational or participatory aspects.

This debate is shaping up as a metaphor for our morphing municipal identity, from one based on manufacturing and brute force, to one where speed, skill and endurance are required.  Is it possible that football, never as big a draw in Canada as it is in the US, could be past its prime as a major entertainment sport, particularly in the face of growing numbers of immigrants who favour soccer, and lately, cricket?  When viewed through that perspective, it would seem that supporting the Tiger Cats may be like bailing a sinking ship.

There’s going to be a lot of people pointing fingers and making accusations about who sunk what and who screwed the deal. What’s plainly clear is that common ground couldn’t be found in an area where so much land needs to be redeveloped.

And that’s a real tragedy in a city that has so much to lose.

My beautiful daughter Rachel works at one of Hamilton’s many social service agencies, I won’t mention which one.  Their agency has a Christmas hamper program for needy families on their service roster.  She called me to ask if I wanted to go in on one that she was putting together.  Sure, I said, put me down for $20.

Then I got to thinking…  I work at McMaster University, one of Hamilton’s largest and most coveted employers.  I bet I could scrape up enough interest among my colleagues that we could sponsor our own basket.

So I sent a quick e-mail message around to about 6 people I felt would be sympathetic to this cause and invited them to join with me.  I’ve never suggested such a thing before, and I wanted to be careful to create an invitation that wouldn’t alienate anyone.  Although we work for this fabulous employer and our jobs are more secure than some (we all hope), not everyone enjoys the same level of discretionary income.  We don’t need to create stress in our own lives trying to reduce it in others.

So, when the invitation went ‘viral’ I was amazed.  The people I sent it to sent it to others who work in the same area.  Pretty soon our numbers amounted to over 20 people.  Everyone who heard about it wanted in on the deal.  It was amazing.  I contacted the agency and said: put us down for two.  The agency was happy to hear the good news.

Over the next couple of weeks, my colleagues embraced our two families with a generosity that was inspiring.  I had also sent it along to other department managers in our faculty, you never know who’s looking for an opportunity to help.  And wouldn’t you know that another of our departments picked it up and had fun filling their hamper too.  It was gratifying to see that simply asking “can we help?” could elicit such and outpouring of sympathy and support for a couple of families who were anonymous to us, yet who we all felt such a connection to.

The agency gave us a list of items and sizes for clothes and we divided it up and tackled the task of filling the hampers with goodies.  We were humbled by the simplicity of their needs.  With the responsibility spread among such a big group, well, what can I say except we built a couple of kick-ass baskets.  The filing cabinets in my office were piled with presents; their presence pulled me into the Christmas spirit.  I was sad to see them go when we packed them away to send them to the agency.  But not really.

I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose, at the response of my colleagues.  For most of them are parents themselves and they know the importance of Christmas to kids.  They also know what it feels like for parents who want their kids to have what the other kids have.  Christmas can be such a difficult time for families.

They also know how fortunate we are to have the jobs we have.  Many of us live paycheque to paycheque, but we know we’re going to be getting that next paycheque.  For many families in Hamilton, there is no paycheque; there is no opportunity to save for Christmas and no credit to cover it.

My children are done with Christmas. That is, they no longer rush down the stairs to eagerly rip open presents under the tree.  Well, not at my house anyway, they have their own lives now, their own trees to put presents under.  Christmas morning is more subdued, with a few phone calls and late morning brunch, then a relaxing day cooking dinner for family and neighbours.

I’m happy that my daughter called and asked for help.  Through that request, and the response of my generous colleagues, I can still enjoy the excitement of a child’s Christmas morning.  I feel connected both with my colleagues and with our community, and that’s the best Christmas present ever.

It’s not too late; there are still opportunities to give for families who are in need.  The Food Bank always needs food and you call up any social service agency to see what their needs are; your support will be warmly welcomed.

Happy Holidays.

Pigeons on the roof of Coppley Clothing, on York and McNab. It's amazing how they can cling on to the tin roof. It's a testament to how cold it is to see them huddled so closely to the roof.

On Saturday, Ray and I took a walk downtown to do some shopping.  He wanted to go to the market and pick up some of the pepperettes that he particularly likes from one of the market vendors.  It’s been quite the hunt for them, so having a regular source makes life easier.

I was looking for a pair of gloves, specifically leather gloves.   My old ones, the ones that matched my coat perfectly, became a dog toy last spring when one of my pesky pooches started gnawing on the thumb until it came right off.  So that became my mission.  I took my camera along as I like to when walking around, maybe snap some shots of Christmas in the city.

New entrance, Hamilton Public Library

Our first destination was the Hamilton Public Library.  We have been waiting eagerly for the construction hoarding to come down and the new entrance opened for all to use.  The first glimpse I caught of it was of the glass wall, shimmering like an ice wall in the distance.  It looks like ice, I said.

Ice Wall, Hamilton Public Library

We thought we’d go in, have a look around.  I snapped some pics of the signage and of the front gallery annex just inside the main doors.

New signage, Hamilton Public Library.

The Gallery Annex just inside the outside doors, but not inside the library yet.

I took a picture of Ray going inside the Library and I was just entering the door myself and getting ready to take another shot when the security guard came running over… “You can’t take pictures in here” she said.  I said “What?”  She repeated herself with more force this time.  She’s a tough one, the security guard at the Library.  I put my camera away and went to check the facts, which were confirmed by one of the managers.

So I see that we’re over-reacting with all these restrictions on privacy and picture taking in public places.  The Library is a public place and as such I  feel that I have the right to snap away at whatever I want.  There are cameras everywhere taking pictures of me and you and what we do when we’re out and about in public.  The Library has its own cameras to keep tabs on the comings and goings of patrons.  It’s not the taking of pictures, it’s who gets to take the pictures.  If the state can take pictures in a public space without my consent or any good reason to then why can’t I take pictures of the public library?  I’m not even interested in the people, they are merely incidental to the scene.

Good thing I got some anyway, I said to Ray as we left.  I didn’t feel much like walking around and enjoying the new space after that.  Pretty cold space if you ask me.

There’s not too many places downtown that sell leather gloves.  I thought that maybe I’d have to go up the hill to Limeridge, which I don’t like to do because it’s always packed and does a fairly good business without mine, although the shopping selection is so much better.  They have a Danier there, as well as a Sears, sure purveyors of ladies fine leather gloves.  But the downtown has Leather’s, on the corner of King and Mary, so off we went down King Street.

I’m grateful to the vendors of quality products who have stuck it out on the strip of King and Main between Wellington to Dundurn.  There are a number of small businesses that are destination retail or restaurant establishments that have stayed on the street despite its challenges.  Le Chinois and the Black Forest Inn, Venetian Jewellers, Leathers, Alexanian’s Carpets, Rock’n'Tees, and, of course, Denningers. I don’t mean to insult anyone by not including those who don’t come so quickly to mind.  I’m just happy that they’re still there when I need them, like Leather’s was this Saturday.

I picked up a beautiful pair of brown leather gloves, lined with the softest and thinnest plush fabric.  I left a happy shopper indeed.

We stopped in Gore Park on our way back to Jackson Square:

Our shiny Christmas manger. Bet it wasn't this clean back in the day...

Christmas Tree of Hope

Take a train ride around the Queen. The lights in the trees were on. It all looked a little garish in the day time. I'm sure it's prettier at night.

We ran into local celebrity, JR Diggs, doing some promotional shots for whatever it is he’s up to these days.  We wished him a Merry Christmas and made our way home.

Local celebrity, JR Diggs

Don't our buses look nice?

My second column comes out in Monday’s paper – my opening salvo in the fight for fair transit.  Well, since I got the column that is.  I’ve written on this before, and before that.

Now – I am under no illusion that our august leaders would lower themselves to take the bus for a day never mind a week or a month, but I want them to think of the challenge, of what it would be like for them to lose access to their car and have to depend on something else, and not their spouse’s car, either. Or a limo service.

And it would be nice if they started before making any HSR decisions on Dec 14.

Some of them can’t do it because there is no bus service that will carry them from the bottom of their street to the downtown core. They are the obvious losers. I expect Councilor Partridge will be the first to offer her regrets.

Some of them can’t do it because they think their time is so important that it can’t be spent standing at a stop or delayed by people getting on and off. Hey – I hear you. Me too. Time management is a talent.

Some of them will say that they are too busy, that their calendars are packed back to back full of meetings with very important people . Technology could help them be more efficient, otherwise it’s called allocating for travel time. See time management, above.

Some of them can’t do it because they don’t want to mingle with the masses that love them (or hate them?). What a lost opportunity to do some much needed connecting with their constituents; these are the people you elected and they are afraid to sit, or stand, among you.

It’s not just the experience of waiting for the bus and riding the bus with other people in such close proximity, or the time it takes to get to where you need to go. It’s also about what you can’t do in this great big city by not having a bus go where you want it, or need it, to.

My partner and I wanted to go to Home Depot in Meadowlands one Saturday. Great, I said, the Delaware goes there now. How awesome is that? I asked him. He knew that, having taken it a few times previously during the day, as part of running errands for his business. I work at a desk during the day and usually leave my errand running for the weekend. I was looking forward to going to Meadowlands, which I only go to if I have a car; I was happy when they extended the bus route to go out that far.

Imagine my dismay when I phoned the bus check only to be told that the service to Meadowlands would resume on Monday morning at whatever time it does.

No service to a major shopping area on Saturday. How stupid is that? was the question of the day. We had to go all the way out to Centennial Parkway, from one end of the city to another on two buses jammed crammed with strollers, students and shoppers to get to where we had to go. And Meadowlands is just right there, up the hill.

I don’t want to go into detail about the limitations on where I go, where I spend my money or my time, what civic activities I can attend, or what entertainment events I can make it to, and how I visit family and friends. I’ll leave this topic with one more example.

I have the good fortune to have a few friends who live in Waterdown. I’ve been to Waterdown, it’s a sprawling suburb of new homes surrounding a quaint historic core. I’ve ridden my bike there a number of times, it’s really not that far, and it is part of Hamilton. But there’s no bus service to Waterdown. I can’t visit my friends, I can’t shop in the quaint little town. I think the businesses in Waterdown would like my money, too bad I can’t get there to spend it.

Transit problems are not just limited to within the Hamilton area.

My beautiful daughter and her handsome husband live in Grimsby, a town that when I was growing up, truly was a little town, out past Winona, a farm community with vineyards and peach trees. Well, it’s not like that anymore. Development has taken over and there are homes from here to there. They both work in Hamilton and drive back and forth every day. I can’t go visit them because there is no public transportation that goes there. I realize that Grimsby is not part of our amalgamated city; I’m looking at Metrolinx to fix that transit problem.

Which brings me to Metrolinx.

As I said in my column, recent comments by the mayors of both Hamilton and Toronto leave me thinking that this topic is too important to be shepherded through City Council than to be left to provocative talk show hosts and blustering bullies, neither of whom ride the bus, I might add. Maybe it’s time to take transit away from the petty politics of municipal governments and create corporations directly responsible to the riders and the citizens of the areas they serve, without the noise created by politicians with parochial interests.

The report released recently regarding the dissatisfaction of HSR riders is confirmation what everyone who has been talking about this topic has long said: the HSR sucks. The passengers are pissed and they take it out on the drivers. Who else can they talk to, there is no satisfaction when they call in to comment. Bus drivers are human too, although some of them are downright rude and fail to remember that service is a keyword in the transit lexicon.

The bus drivers, the ones who have the busy routes, must get sick of the behaviour that some riders exhibit. Some drivers have better people skills than others. It’s not just about being able to negotiate that great big bus around hairpin turns, bus drivers are ambassadors of our city. People skills are important too. Not everyone can read, not everyone knows where they’re going, not everyone is from here, not everyone is stupid. But at least the driver can smile when he, or she, answers their questions. Maybe give the rider the benefit of the doubt.

Visitors who come to Hamilton, the ones that I’ve invited through my work, don’t mind taking the bus, especially the ones who visit from Europe. They welcome the opportunity, actually. Some visitors see it as a cheap city tour, a pretty good deal in Hamilton at $2.50 for 2 hours. The Burlington route goes right down by our factory front and any number of the Upper routes present an awesome view of the city.

As baby boomers age and their facilities begin to fail them, they’ll be happy for access to transit when they lose their driving license.  Oh, no worry – their kids will be there to drive them all over the city.  They’ll like that.

When my children were small, we sang the Wheels on the Bus song – you know the one:

The wheels on the bus go round and round, Round and round, round and round.

I remember reading books as a small child that had a ride on the bus as an adventure in the big world and bus drivers as professionals who wore a smart uniform and a jaunty cap and greeted you with a smile when you paid your fare. We have the right message to give, but we’re not walking the talk with our kids.

As we’ve seen with any number of social marketing campaigns, behaviour change is best begun early. Our dependence on the car is crippling our society. We are trapped, held hostage to an industry that contributes to increasing levels of environmental pollution and growing obesity rates. We need to create a system that we can trust our children to, one that we can trust our parent to

Increasing fares and declining service have made even the most stalwart supporters question their loyalty. In my case, I don’t take the bus if I don’t have to. I walk.

I agree with some components of the Hamilton Business Leader’s vision of transit and its role in economic development. Transit makes strange bedfellows. Where else might you find environmental and economic groups working together and talking land use but around the transit table? These partnerships should be leveraged with the financial clout of the business and philanthropic community.

The big employers in the city should be encouraging their staff to take transit by incenting their participation. The McMaster Student Union negotiated a deal with the HSR for a ridiculously low annual rate for students and paid through their student fees. Every student gets a pass whether they use the bus or not. If anyone thinks that a change in fares makes a difference, think again. Once all those students got passes, ridership zoomed through the roof on routes that run between the University and downtown. That problem remains unsolved after, maybe, 10 years.

And where is philanthropy in the issue of transit? Where are the great visionaries with money who see the role that affordable public transit has in a vibrant and equitable economy? Health care is an easy sell, no one wants to be sick and everyone wants to live forever. Improving the quality of life for everyone in the city and leaving a legacy that will live on long after they do is a perfect way to assuage the guilt of acquiring obscene amounts of capital. From car parts. Or gambling.

Investing in reliable, robust and responsible public transit is a no-brainer for anyone with a thought for tomorrow.

Seems I was mistaken about long how a week lasts, 5 or 7 days.

I was planning on taking the Food Basket campaign to Sunday, which would be 7 days, but I discovered that wasn’t necessary.  I mean, I could have, and probably should have, but then I would have been showing everyone up on who could last longer on less and who’s into that?  And who am I kidding?  All that was left was the KD and tuna.  I’ve been through that before so won’t go there again.  Ray was happy to have the KD and he made Tuna Helper for the dogs.  They really liked that.

Thanksgiving Weekend was beautiful and we spent Saturday and Sunday walking up and down along the trails that line the escarpment.  I’ll write about that on another post.  I took tons of pictures and spent the evenings creating a map of our travels on Google Maps.  I’ve finished only one of the days and will get to that presently.  Like I said: busy, busy, busy.

I did write up a final reflection that I sent to the paper but it didn’t make it to print.  I think it’s too late now so it’s safe to offer it as my final reflection on food.  Well, final for this particular campaign, because I’ve learned a lot and can’t believe I won’t go there again.

And I learned from my Twitterstream that there’s another Challenge in Windsor, so it seems to be a rolling campaign.  Anyone can do it.

Here’s what I wrote (I removed the redundancies):

I’m sitting at a table in the break area of a conference I’m attending at the Hamilton Convention Centre on knowledge translation, which deals, in a very small nutshell, with how to  bridge the research/policy/action divides to improve health.

I’ve written a few blog posts about my experience as a part of the campaign, reflecting on what’s it’s been like.  I’ve been reading about the experiences of others, how they’ve been managing.  We share similar reflections.

We miss our fresh fruit and vegetables.  The vegetables in my basket are in cans, same with the fruit.  I have an onion and a potato.

Some of us have been getting headaches, around mid afternoon.  I have one right now.  I had to skip out early from a night class last night because my head hurt and all I could think of was a bowl of vegetable soup with a handful of rice thrown in for good measure.  I became obsessive thinking of it.  I was so hungry by the time I got home, it was all I could do to wait for the soup to nuke, never mind wait for rice to boil.  Tonight I’ll go home before class to eat my last can of soup.  I’ll have time to put the rice in then.  We learn as we go.

We have commented on just how eye-opening the experience has been.  I’ve been preoccupied with my reflections on food and who gets what to eat.  I get lost sometimes in my reflections as I contemplate hunger in a land of plenty, for there is plenty of food out there.

But as I mentioned, the shelves of the food bank are bare and Thanksgiving is on the horizon.  Our food banks need help in feeding our neighbors and I’m encouraging everyone to give generously.  And, just as importantly, our politicians need to be told that we support an increase in social assistance food rates by $100 to reflect the realities of the research, which shows the current levels to be woefully inadequate.

People living on the limitations of social assistance suffer from those limitations in ways that many of us don’t realize, in ways that most us take for granted.

Back to the conference and further reflections.

The speakers talked about how to impact research take up, how to influence decision makers.  They detailed a range of strategies.  But the piece of advice that resonated with me, the take home message, among many valuable lessons, is that stories matter.  They touch the heart of our common human experience.  They make us feel.

My story, her story, his story.  We can all tell you in words what the numbers can’t.  What it means to be hungry in a land of plenty.

Better yet, try it yourself .  Tell your own story.